Hawthorn and Silver Birch (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Chapter 1

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy and his cousin Viscount Sterling Bramwell were walking through Merrion Square, Dublin.

They had arrived in the city only the evening before, and after the long days of travel from County Kilkenny, the exercise was welcome.

Looking about him, Darcy found a park that was not large, but it was neat and well designed.

With the first glimmer of sunlight he had seen in days peeking through the seemingly constant clouds, he was satisfied, even content.

“This is pleasant,” Bramwell said. “It will not be so bad to spend a month or two here. See a new city, spend time with people we know who also happen to be visiting.”

“People we know?” Darcy interjected with a touch of sarcasm. “As far as I have ascertained, there is only one person we know in Dublin at present.” That happened to be the Earl of Halsley, who was a childhood friend to both their fathers.

Bramwell shrugged and urged, “Think of the adventure! A city neither of us have been to before, the opportunity to explore an unfamiliar country, make new acquaintances.” He chuckled.

“Not that you will like having to talk to people you do not already know well. Everything went as expected—better than expected—with my father’s task.

Now we can amuse ourselves, and I, for one, am anticipating it. ”

Upon arriving in Ireland, they had immediately visited the Earl of Romsley’s large Irish estate, which had belonged to the Fitzwilliam family for generations.

Darcy understood why his cousin was acting overly cheerful about the coming weeks.

It was because his father had convinced, very nearly ordered, Darcy to take this voyage with Bramwell.

The earl and countess had wanted their eldest son out of London for a while after he had got himself into a bit of a scrape involving a married lady and a particularly raucous party.

In short, there had been far too much gossip about the young viscount, and none of it good.

His parents had insisted their son go to Ireland and that, when he returned, he would marry and settle.

In the words of his mother, he would, ‘finally grow up’.

Darcy supposed they did not entirely trust Bramwell on his own, which he thought unfair, believing his cousin’s troubles had not been entirely, or even mostly, of his own doing.

However, they were very good friends, and Darcy had appreciated the excuse to travel.

With the ongoing war with Napoleon, such opportunities were not as plentiful as one would like.

After a brief silence, Bramwell’s steps slowed, and he said, “What is it? You seem even more dour than usual.”

Darcy made a gesture of dismissal. “It is nothing. A lingering headache after spending the last several days in a carriage. I apologise.”

His cousin patted him on the back, and they continued, walking past vegetation that was largely familiar to him, but with a few new species he might examine further at another time. I should recall that I was eager to come, and not disrupt Bramwell’s pleasure with my sour moods.

“You will soon feel better,” his cousin said.

“We are settled in Dublin for now, and I do not anticipate us going anywhere before we return to England. Perhaps we might take an excursion to the nearby countryside for a day, if we discover there is something worth seeing.” Darcy nodded, and his cousin went on.

“I cannot claim a desire to speed our journey home. Not because of the voyage necessarily, but because of what awaits me when I do. Though I trust my father will not wish to continue scolding me as vehemently as he was before our departure.”

“He will have forgot it all by then. More to the point, the gossips will have.” Darcy inwardly grumbled at how quickly many in the ton were to spread what they called ‘news’ without bothering to discover its veracity. “Is it their plans for your future?”

Bramwell lifted one shoulder and sighed.

“Lady Cassandra, my parents’ choice of daughter-in-law.

Fortunately, they managed to select a woman I do not wholly dislike and who is pretty.

I suppose. Her looks are not that extraordinary, and, as far as I have discerned, she has nothing in particular to recommend her beyond the usual accomplishments of young ladies of her station.

But she was not their chief consideration.

Her father was.” Lord Powis was a political ally of the earl, and both men saw their children’s marriage as a way to strengthen the bond between the families.

Sounding resigned, Bramwell continued. “It is my duty, et cetera. Being the eldest son, I must accept the responsibilities along with the rewards.”

They had discussed the subject several times over recent years, and Darcy said, “A sentiment I understand well. Before we departed, your mother reminded me that I should be marrying soon too. And our dear aunt wrote to impress on me that it is my duty to make her daughter my wife.”

“Let me guess,” Bramwell said with a laugh.

“Lady Catherine was sure to mention that she and her sister—your dear mother—planned the union when you and Anne were in your cradles and assured you that our cousin’s health is much improved.

And I suspect she spent several sentences exclaiming on how glad you would be to gain Rosings, in addition to such a charming bride, one who was formed for you, you would be the envy of the ton, and she heaped praise upon Anne that she does not deserve. ”

Darcy chuckled; their aunt was predictable.

“The more I contemplate it, however, the less certain I am that duty requires it of me, and I know it is not my preference. My father never spoke of it other than in relation to it being what my mother had hoped for, and I believe he would have, if it was what he wanted, even though I was only two-and-twenty when he died. After all, we knew his illness was grave, and he expressed his wishes regarding many other matters. My mother is too long dead for me to know how her feelings regarding Anne and me marrying might have changed once we were no longer children.”

“True. My father likes the idea, as you know, and has said it would be prudent and what have you. If Lady Catherine would accept my brother as a substitute groom, I believe he would be very glad.”

Darcy made a noise of agreement. As second son, Colonel Fitzwilliam would inherit little and had vowed not to marry any lady who did not have a substantial fortune.

He stopped walking, lightly touching his cousin’s arm and pointing to the top branches of the hawthorn ahead of them.

A Great Tit sat proudly, his yellow chest a contrast to the grey tree, which was only beginning to sprout leaves.

The men stood there for a moment, and Darcy said, “As much as our relations speak of our situations being similar, they are not entirely. Unlike you, I am not heir to an earldom. My choice of wife, while important, is not as crucial. Yet, our cousin would be a prudent choice. She meets my requirements, so to speak. After all, my wife, whoever she is, must bring with her excellent connexions and a large dowry to enrich my estate. I owe it to my heritage, my sister, my family, and my dependents. My father married an earl’s daughter.

My children deserve the same advantage, and I am determined to give it to them. ”

Elizabeth Bennet sniggered quietly at the gentleman’s words.

He sounded so serious and sombre, his deep voice seeming to create a tremor in the tree against which she leant.

In the stillness of her mind, she repeated his statements regarding the lady he would deign to marry, mocking him.

How she longed for her sister Jane’s company; together, they might have shared a laugh at his arrogance.

“Well, come along,” the friendlier gentleman said. “The earl is expecting us.”

From her spot at the other side of a broad hawthorn, Elizabeth watched as the pair walked away, fortunately in a direction where they would not see her and learn they had been overheard.

She was taking a stroll, properly accompanied by a footman, and had stopped to repair a loose boot lace.

Faintly, she had noticed voices growing louder, which she presently presumed had belonged to the two men.

What had made them pause so near to her she did not know, but she wished they had not.

Then again, she reflected, she dearly loved to laugh, and they had given her an excuse to do so.

As the tall figures retreated, Elizabeth realised that their accents had marked them as English.

If they were visitors to Dublin, as she was, it was possible their paths would cross again, but she sincerely hoped not.

I have been having such a lovely time, I believe the best weeks of my life, and I would not want the next months to be spoilt by having to endure disagreeable company!

Banishing these worries, which did her no good, she smiled at the footman and indicated she was prepared to go on.

She patted the tree, her fondness for the variety having grown after learning from the housekeeper, Mrs McCaffrey, that the Irish viewed hawthorns as symbols of love and protection, as well as homes for faeries.

It was a lovely belief, and who was to say it was not true?

Whether it was or not, Elizabeth would respect it and most certainly would refrain from ever harming one of the trees lest she invite misfortune into her life.

To her, that included not expressing ridiculous, insulting opinions in their vicinity.